


someday soon i hope will soon be here

by bromy



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, GAY PEOPLE ARE REAL?, Jschlatt's name is Jacob, M/M, Mentioned Toby Smith | Tubbo, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28674741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bromy/pseuds/bromy
Summary: title is from wish u were here - kitsch clubwilbur packs his suitcase to fly back home. christmas is over, he's already had his new years kiss, and the flight is already booked. but, does he really have to leave?just some simple fluff, written for the holiday season. maybe the softest thing i've ever written in my life?
Relationships: Jschlatt/Wilbur Soot
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





	someday soon i hope will soon be here

**Author's Note:**

> obligatory "don't show the ccs" :]

Packing his suitcase always felt like hammering the final nail in a coffin — Wilbur knew he had to leave, but did he _really_ have to? Every pair of pants he folded, every scrap of paper he had collected, it was just another painful reminder that his two weeks were over, that he had to go home.

Well, if you could call his apartment that. Honestly, Schlatt’s house had been more of a home to him then anywhere he had ever lived. He had memorized every nook and cranny, knew exactly where things were hidden, even bought new stuff for it — it was so close to being his home. It was already the one he visited in his dreams every night.

It was Christmas, too. Jacob _loved_ Christmas. Every inch of the house was decorated. Lights, tinsel, and little knick-knacks filled whatever space they could. Even the towels in the bathroom had been switched out for more seasonal ones. It made him actually feel _festive_ for once, and he had managed to put up with Tubbo for as long as it took to make a gingerbread house with him. He knew it made Schlatt happy, to see Wilbur interact with his son, but honestly, teenagers were always annoying around his age. At least Tubbo had let him eat all of the extra candy for his hard work.

A knock interrupted him from his thoughts. Wilbur turned around, fully expecting to see his partner there, leaning up against the doorframe.

“Packing?” He asked. Schlatt looked like he was moping about him leaving, too, already anxiously rubbing his arms. It was the smallest quirks Wilbur noticed, like how he always kissed him in even numbers, or purposefully mismatched his socks.

“Yeah.” Wilbur answered quietly, folding his last shirt. He could hear Schlatt cross the room towards him and he paused, knowing he was either going to be hugged or tickled or both.

Schlatt chose the hug. He wrapped himself around Wilbur, the younger man’s smaller frame absolutely dwarfed. He radiated warmth, and everything about him was soft, from his breath to his crewneck, the comforting combination making Wilbur melt into his arms easily. 

Jacob sighed, content. His chin rested right on Wil’s shoulder, and Wilbur leaned up to meet him, cheek brushing against the other man’s scruffy half-beard. “Do you have to go?” He mumbled. Wilbur had already wanted to stay, and the hug just made it worse — he drank in every detail with an insatiable hunger, just wanting more and more of Schlatt with every second that passed. 

Jacob rocked them back and forth slightly, swaying to the rhythm of their heartbeats. Here, enclosed in his arms, perfectly surrounded, he was _safe._ He was truly home. Somehow, his heart both ached and soared. He wanted nothing more but to give in, just lean further into the touch and let go of all of his worries, all of the endless thoughts that constantly held him back. But, he also knew that it couldn’t happen, not quite yet. They had nothing but time stopping them now, all visas and green cards and, well, money.

“Yeah, I do.” Wilbur hummed back. Schlatt snuck a few kisses against his hair, a silent plea. “But I’m coming back, you know.” A few weeks in March here, a weekend in May, then in July, September for their birthdays, then it would be Thanksgiving and Christmas again. 

“You always do.”

“Can I finish packing, now?” 

“No.” The older man’s arms held him tighter, and he chuckled, a low rumble against Wilbur’s back. 

Wilbur couldn’t even reach his clothes if he wanted to. He threw his head back in defeat, fighting the smile that appeared on his face — “Ugh, you’re absolutely insufferable sometimes,” he laughed, and Schlatt just peppered his jaw and neck with more kisses.


End file.
